


Box of Chocolates

by Scorpio71



Category: The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Collection of non-related short stories, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, M/M, No continuity between chapters, Pottymouth Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:11:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpio71/pseuds/Scorpio71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. </p>
<p>Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Being the Princess

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: Being the Princess  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: R  
> WARNING: Pottymouth language, ridiculousness, violence  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock, DC/Vertigo  
> SUMMARY: Just to be clear about things, Pooch was extra mad at the situation because _he_ was the one all tied up and dangling from a rope like a fuckin’ damsel in distress. Really, it should be Jensen.

This crazy fucked up mess, Pooch thought sourly, had to be all Jensen’s fault. There was no other explanation because it was NOT the Pooch’s typical luck to find himself tied up and dangling over a pit of snakes while a James Bond villain wannabe stood off to the side monologuing about all his evil plans for world domination while two gorgeous barely dressed bimbos hung on his every word. 

Seriously…this wasn’t the type of shit that happened to Pooch. Jensen; yes. Possibly to Clay as well, but not Pooch.

Pooch glanced over at the bad guy…still monologuing. With a sigh, Pooch went back to ignoring him and staring down into the pit of snakes below him. Fuck. Why couldn’t it be fuzzy bunnies or llamas or something? He hated goddamn snakes.

Just to be clear about things, Pooch was extra mad at the situation because _he_ was the one all tied up and dangling from a rope like a fuckin’ damsel in distress. Really, it should be Jensen. Not that he wanted Jensen in danger, but that’s just the way things normally worked out. First Jensen got captured and tied up by the bad guy and then Pooch came to his rescue with heavy weapons blazing and a getaway vehicle ready to take them all to safety.

See? Pooch was clearly meant to be the rescuer…not the rescuee. 

This whole mess was completely unfair and totally Jensen’s fault. He’d lodge a complaint about Jensen’s obvious slacking off in the getting captured department, but Pooch is pretty sure that’d just make Clay roll his eyes, Roque snicker, Cougar shoot him some nasty glares and Jensen would pout like a kicked puppy. He could live with the eye rolling, snickers, and glares…but that sad puppy face of Jensen’s got him every time.

Pooch glanced over at the bad guy again…and the fucker was still monolguing. And really, Pooch just couldn’t help himself…he had to comment.

“Damn, man! Don’t you ever shut the fuck up? Not even my boy Jensen talks that much after chugging a case of Red Bull and sucking down a pack of Pixie Stix!” 

The two bimbos gasped in shock and the bad guy glared up at him for a moment before he gestured dramatically and opened his mouth to declare some more deluded crap about his own greatness. Before a single word emerged, his head exploded like a watermelon hit with a sledgehammer. The bimbos screamed. Pooch beamed a smile.

“Thank you Cougar! That man was annoying as fuck!”

In an instant Clay, Roque and Jensen stormed into the room killing all the guards in a hail of bullets. The bimbos ran off screaming and an alarm started blaring in the distance. A series of deep booming explosions started going off and the entire building shook. Roque winked at him as he sauntered over to the controls to the winch holding him dangling in the air.

“Just a minute Pooch and I’ll have you down from there.” Roque chuckled, “You make a fucked up kite anyway.”

“Fuck you Roque,” Pooch glared back half-heartedly, “I make a damn beautiful kite…it’s just the fucking pit of snakes under me that’s pissin’ me off.”

“Clay…” Jensen called from over where the large computer servers sat huddled against a wall, “Pooch’s dead friend here has some serious firewalls. I don’t got time to crack ‘em before we gotta leave. Can I take the drives with me?”

Pooch grumbled, “Fucker wasn’t my friend Jensen and I’m glad he’s dead.”

Clay grinned and shot another two guards that were running up the hall towards them. “Sure, Corporal…just don’t leave anything the bad guys can use.”

Jensen’s grin was wide. “Groovy.” And then he turned back to the server and started to physically pull it apart. 

Suddenly the winch holding him dangling in the air began to make a grinding rumbling noise and he was swung out away from the pit and being slowly lowered down to the ground. It took a moment or two and then he was scrambling to get his feet under him. Roque jogged over to him from the control panel and pulled a huge ass knife outta thin air.

“Hold still princess.”

Pooch glared, “Bite me Roque. Just get me outta these damn ropes.”

Then Pooch turned his back to Roque so he could cut him free. He was tired of being trussed up like a chicken. Chuckling, Roque slid his knife between Pooch’s body and the ropes. After a good hard tug or two they fell away to the ground.

“Anything broke or bleeding?”

Pooch shook his head.

“Just my pride.”

Chuckling again, Roque slapped him on the shoulder and walked off.

“Come on; let’s get the hell out of here.”

Pooch started following Roque when Jensen darted over from the servers, a wide grin on his face.

“Hey man!” 

Jensen bumped his shoulder even as he swung his pack off his back and tucked the hard drive into it. Then he reached in another pocket and pulled out a gun.

“Brought you something,” he said as he shoved the gun into Pooch’s hands.

Pooch grinned and flicked the safety off.

“Thanks, Jay.”

Jensen beamed a smile.

“N.P., man. Also…I found Mojito. He’s waiting for you in the van.”

Pooch beamed a smile right back.

Then Cougar slid out of a shadow to the side and sauntered up to them, his big SR-25 slung over one shoulder. He tipped his hat to them.

“Pooch.”

Pooch nodded in return and gestured to the dead bad guy. 

“Awesome shot man. That guy sucked.”

Cougar smirked wildly.

“De nada.”

“Alright Losers!” Clay’s voice boomed over the wailing alarm, the guards’ shouting and the seemingly random explosions. “It’s time to get the hell outta here.”

Then Clay smirked at Pooch, “You too princess.”

Pooch sighed loudly even as he followed his team towards the exit, “I’m not a damn princess…”


	2. Swimming in Lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Swimming in Lemonade  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: R  
> WARNING: Gender-swap, pottymouth warnings, violence  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle and Jock, DC/Vertigo.   
> SUMMARY: “Clay!” Cougar’s shout was filled with hysteria. He turned his head to look over at Clay threatening the scientist. “They turned Jensen into a woman!”

Max is, without a shadow of a doubt, a full blown crazy person. It’s not just a few odd quirks or neurotic tendencies. No, we’re talking full scale insanity nuts-o; he’s lost the plot, gone ‘round the twist, is completely bat-shit and ready to be shipped off to the bughouse. Like tends to call to like, so Max often finds himself surrounded by or associated with other people who are less-than-sane.

Like his enemies.

The individual members of the Losers should have all been bounced out of the Army and into the nuthouse for being bat-shit crazy years ago. Only the fact that as a collective group they were functional enough to get the job done kept them on the rolls. They’d learned to hold each other’s leashes and provide each other alibi’s and of course General Coleman covered up a few incidents here and there. Still, they were crazy people.

Max didn’t just have crazy enemies, however. He also had crazy allies, minions, and various crazy acquaintances. 

That included a brilliant geneticist that used to work on bio-weapons before he’d had a psychotic break. He was still brilliant, of course, but Max hadn’t believed that the new focus of his work was applicable to Max’s plans.

Until now.

His scientist friend needed a live human test subject and Max knew just the perfect ex-Army Colonel for the job. He just needed to figure out how to set things up so that Clay would be in the right spot at the right time. Obviously, it would take finesse, perfect timing, an extensive knowledge of resources, and a complex plan. 

Or possibly bribery.

*

Cougar gently squeezed the trigger on his SR-25 and was already looking for another target when the Par-Sec minion’s head exploded like a watermelon at a Gallagher show. He spotted a man drawing a gun on Jensen, took aim and gently squeezed the trigger again. Jensen flashed a big grin in his direction before crowing, “Cougar! You rock!” over the Comms. 

Cougar smirked and began looking for another target. He drew a bead on one man, but Clay took him out first. He saw another Par-Sec soldier come up behind Aisha and nearly ignored it. In other circumstances he could have really liked Aisha. She could have easily become one of his best friends. They understood each other and were alike in many ways. It was the ways they were different that were the deal breakers. Too many instances of bad Intel, outright lies and threats, not to mention violence had ensured that she and Cougar could never really be friends.

It was simple really. Cougar was loyal and trustworthy. Aisha was not.

In the end, it was only Aisha’s anger and frustration that said louder than words that this shitstorm of bad Intel was an ambush of someone else’s making that led Cougar to save her life. With a frown turning down his lips, he put a 7.62 mm NATO round in the middle of the guy’s forehead and thus cleared her way towards Pooch.

“What the fuck?” Clay’s voice snapped over the Comms, crackling with tension. A loud rumbling sound was echoing around the area even as Cougar’s head turned towards Clay.

Clay was standing in the open staring towards a wall of the Goliath building the rumbling was coming from with Jensen several steps behind and to the right of him. Cougar muttered a curse because his angle was bad and he couldn’t see what Clay and Jensen were looking at. The rumbling stopped with a loud metallic thunk and Clay’s mouth gaped open even as Jensen whispered, “Holy mother of science…it’s a freaking space cannon.”

“Jay!?” Pooch’s voice was a mix of amusement and worry. “What the fuck you talkin’ about?”

“It’s the love child of a deep space telemetry radar dish and a P-38 Space Modulator on steroids!”

There was a brief pause and then Aisha asked, “What the hell’s a P-whatever Space Mod-thingy?”

With a snort, Cougar was the one to answer. “Marvin the Martian’s gun.”

He then ignored her yelling at Jensen to stop messing around and Pooch’s jokes about Bugs Bunny by trying to figure out the best place to move to so that he could see what Clay and Jensen saw. He couldn’t cover their backs if he couldn’t hit what was threatening them. The fact that all of the Par-Sec soldiers had melted away when the rumbling started just made it both more convenient as well as imperative that he get into a better backup position while he could. He had just finished gathering up his gear when a high pitched electronic whine filled the air and made all of the little hairs on his neck stand up on end.

Fuck! Time was running out. He had a really bad feeling about this. He was about to leap from his perch when the whining noise changed pitch. He glanced up just in time to watch as Jensen screamed, “Clay! No!” and leapt at their CO, shoving the man hard. Clay flew through the air for several feet before hitting the ground with a pained grunt.

Jensen’s actions might have saved Clay, but they also put himself right into the crosshairs. In a flash of blinding light, a glowing green laser beam burst out of the building and hit Jensen in the middle of the chest.

“Jake!” Cougar screamed his best friend’s name even as he leapt off his perch. He hit the ground with a grunt of pain but ignored his throbbing ankle to run towards his friend.

He skidded to a halt next to Clay and they both watched, horrified and helpless, as Jensen began to glow with a terrible green light. Then he started to convulse, a howl of pain torn from his lips. Cougar reached for him, but Clay held him back away from the light. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, Jensen collapsed to the ground. It was hard to see him past the bright glow radiating from Jensen’s skin, but it almost seemed as if his friend was…melting.

Clay’s voice snapped out, “Cougar! Stop that machine!”

Cougar’s head whipped to the side and he finally saw what was attacking Jensen. The wall of the building was open to expose the interior of the room. It was apparent that the earlier rumbling noise had been the walls pulling back like airplane hangar doors. The room itself was lined with a massive super computer right out of a fucking comic book and it was manned by dozens of lab coat wearing scientists. In the middle was the crown jewel of this mad-scientist lab; the laser weapon itself.

It did sort of look like a giant P-38 Space Modulator with a radar dish flared behind it like a cobra’s hood. The thing was massive and hooked up to a solid base platform with a huge power source. Instantly, Cougar’s SR-25 was braced against his shoulder and he was squeezing the trigger.

_Ping! Ping!_

The big 7.62 NATO rounds ricocheted off of the weapon even as the scientists scattered in fear. Without pause, Cougar shifted his aim from the weapon and towards the bank of computers. He squeezed the trigger again and a huge hole opened up in one of the machines. Bits of plastic, metal, and wiring flew through the air as sparks and smoke wafted out of the hole.

The beam of light hitting Jensen pulsed once, twice, before becoming a steady stream again. Jensen screamed. The loud sound was filled with agony and tore through Cougar’s heart.

Cougar could hear Pooch demanding to know what the hell was happening over the Comms, but all he could say was “Fuck…Jensen! He’s down.”

Then Aisha’s tense voice barked, “Pooch, ready the exit. I’m heading back for them.” Then and there, Cougar promised himself to try and forgive Aisha for her previous actions. She was learning to be part of a team and trying to make up for the wrongs she’d caused.

“Oh, fuck this!” Clay growled before turning to stomp off into the building. Scowling, he spun around silently searching until he spotted a scientist trying to hide in a shadowy corner. Clay reached out and grabbed him by the lab coat before yanking him up to his feet and then up on his tiptoes.

“What! The! Fuck!” Clay shouted into the terrified scientist’s face, shaking him roughly to punctuate each individual word.

“I…I…I…” the man stuttered, his eyes rolling in fear even as his bladder let go and he pissed himself in the face of Clay’s fury. Clay sneered in disgust.

Then the high pitched electronic whine changed, getting deeper and softer as if the weapon was running out of juice and powering down. The glow dimmed and it was easier for Cougar to see Jensen.

Something was wrong. He wasn’t sure what. Jensen was moaning in pain, the sound odd to Cougar’s ears. Then the beam of light cut out and the glow around Jensen finally faded away. Slinging his rifle strap over his shoulder, he was kneeling on the ground next to Jensen before the big SR-25 was even settled against his back. Jensen was lying on his side with his back to Cougar and he was curled up into a ball of pain.

“Jake?”

A groan was his only answer. Tentatively, Cougar reached out and grasped Jensen’s shoulder. It felt…wrong under his hand. Different. Gently, he tugged on his friend’s shoulder to roll Jensen onto his back.

Cougar gasped, his heart pounding in his chest even as his blood turned to ice with shock. Jensen; big blonde buff Jake Jensen, had somehow been turned into a female. A statuesque blonde bombshell with one hell of a rack.

“Clay!” Cougar’s shout was filled with hysteria. He turned his head to look over at Clay threatening the scientist. “They turned Jensen into a woman!”

“The fuck?” came over the Comms from Pooch even as Clay said, “What?”

Then Clay looked over, annoyed confusion on his face until he saw Jensen laid out on the ground in front of Cougar. The feminine form was unmistakable with the way Jake’s brand new breasts stretched out his tee shirt or how his hips flared out into rounded curves. Once Clay’s brain registered what his eyes were telling him, his face drained of color and he staggered. Then he turned back to the scientist hanging from his fist and yelled, “Turn him back!” from two inches in front of the man’s nose. The scientist’s eyes went wide before he fainted with a whimper.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Aisha asked as she came around a corner with her Sig drawn. Cougar looked up in time to see her do a classic double take when she clapped eyes on Jensen. “Holy…” she breathed in shock.

Clay growled and stomped over dragging the unconscious scientist with him. “What the hell’s going on is what we need to find out,” He dropped the scientist to the ground. “and this fucker is gonna tell us what we wanna known.”

Cougar glared at the guy with active hatred. How could someone do such a thing?

“Clay!” Pooch’s voice interrupted them over the Comms. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but you guys need to get to the exit now! We have Par-Sec teams closing in fast.”

Clay snarled and glared around at everything, but Cougar just glared back. He pointed at the scientist and growled, “We need to take this fucker with us.”

Clay nodded. “Oh, don’t worry. This sorry sack of shit is going to suffer greatly for this.” Then he kicked the scientist in the ribs and pointed at Aisha. “Drag this bitch back to the van.”

Then Clay stepped over him and knelt down on the other side of Jensen from Cougar. “I’ll get Jensen, so you’ll be on point.”

Cougar nodded even as Clay looked down at Jensen with a frown. Jensen’s face was mostly the same. His beard had fallen out, the dark blonde facial hair sprinkled along the chest and shoulders of his tee shirt. His face was a little fuller, maybe, and softer somehow. Yet his eyes and his lips were the same. It was obvious that this _was_ Jensen and not some random female. His body…well, that’s the rub. His figure was lush with overly ripe curves. Cougar couldn’t help but think that all Jensen needed was a form fitting silver spandex bodysuit and some metal wires wrapped around one hand and he’d look like the Borg chica from that Star Trek show Jensen watched. 

“Holy shit,” Clay muttered, “this is fuckin’ weird, even for Jensen.” Cougar snorted out a laugh that was half hysterical.

With a resigned sigh, Clay bent over Jensen and carefully maneuvered him up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry before standing up. Cougar jumped to his feet, snapped his rifle back around and into position. He glanced once to Clay and Aisha to make sure they were ready to head out, and then lead the way to the exit and Pooch.

*

Back at the safehouse the first words outta Pooch’s mouth was, “Who’s the chick in Jay’s clothes?” Then he looked around, a confused expression on his face. “And where’s White-Boy at?”

Clay stepped back from where he’d laid Jensen down on the couch and grimaced. “That is Jensen.”

Cougar ignored them both to fuss over Jensen. He…she…was out cold, but his…her pulse was strong and she was breathing okay. Cougar looked up and over to them just in time to see Pooch give Clay a skeptical look.

“That’s Jensen?” The driver pointed past Cougar to Jensen’s sleeping form. “Seriously? You seriously expect me to believe that girl over there is JJ? Because I might not be an expert, but I can tell a man in drag from a real female…and those titties are _real_.” 

Clay just reached down and grabbed the shivering scientist by his hair and yanked him up out of his huddle at Aisha’s feet.

“This fucker is gonna explain how Jensen got his new unexpected sex change and then he’s gonna tell us how to fix that shit.” Clay leaned down into the man’s face and growled, “Aren’t ya, buddy?”

The scientist whimpered in fear.

Pooch’s eyes went wide and he pointed at the scientist hanging from Clay’s fist. “He did that to Jensen?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the scientist and asked, “You did that to my friend?”

“I…I…I…I’m just a tech! I’m not the lead scientist! It’s Dr. Breckenridge’s experiment! I swear!”

Pooch waved that detail away and goggled at the man, confusion and anger warring for supremacy. 

“Yes, but… _why_! Why the fuck would you or anyone want to do this?!”

The scientist’s eyes went wide with fear and the inability to answer. He flailed in Clay’s grasp, unable to get away.

“I…I…I…. Oh please, oh please, oh please…don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill me…”

Clay sneered at the man and tossed him between Pooch and Aisha. “Tie this asshole up. If he gives you any problems, break one of his fingers.”

“Yes sir, Colonel.” Pooch said as he bent down to grab the man by one of his arms.

“My pleasure,” Aisha purred with dark glee while grabbing the other.

Cougar waited until the others were in the process of tying the scientist to a chair in the other room to look up at Clay. He tilted his head towards Jensen’s body and asked, “You really think we can fix this?”

Clay’s eyes swept along Jensen’s body, the anger fading a bit to let some of his confusion and concern come through. 

“I don’t know, Cougs. I don’t understand how this could fuckin’ happen in the first place so who’s to say if it’s reversible. But we’ll find out. If this guy doesn’t know how, then we’ve already got a name to check. Breckenridge.”

Just then a low moan came from Jensen and his…her eyelids started to flutter. Cougar turned away from Clay and back to Jensen, his hand coming up check his friend’s pulse. It was starting to rise.

“He’s waking up.”

“Shouldn’t you say that she’s waking up?” Aisha’s voice was deeply amused and Cougar turned his head to glare at her as she and Pooch walked back into the room.

“Can it, Aisha.” Clay snarled. “This isn’t fuckin’ funny.”

Aisha smirked, but didn’t say anything else.

Jensen groaned again and his eyes finally opened. “Wha…” he croaked and turned his head towards Cougar. Cougar shushed him softly and carefully lifted up Jensen’s glasses and placed them on his face. Jensen licked his lips and grimaced. “Fuck…I ache Cougs.”

Then Jensen blinked his eyes and noticed the entire team standing around staring at him oddly. He blinked again. Nope…still there staring. 

“What? What the fuck are you…looking…at?” He trailing off and blinked again. Finally, he looked over at Cougar, an expression of confusion mixed with concern growing on his face. “What’s wrong with my fucking voice?”

It sounded odd to all of them; husky and rough from being unconscious, but a whole lot higher pitched than normal. In fact, it sounded more like his sister Judy’s voice than his own.

“Look down genius,” was Aisha’s smug and amused advice.

Jensen threw her a confused glance and then looked down his body and froze. Slowly, one hand came up and a single finger extended to poke at one of the breasts hidden under his tee shirt. It was real and it was attached to his body. Face paling rapidly with shock, Jensen shrieked and started bashing at his own chest, desperately trying to knock the breasts right off of himself. Flailing and kicking, Jensen had a major meltdown screaming, “Fuck! Get ‘em off, get em’ off of me! Fuckin’ help!”

Cougar dove on top of him, scrambling to capture his wrists and hold him still. “Stop! Jensen, stop!” and then softer, “Está bien...Jensen, vamos a arreglarlo. Vamos a arreglarlo.”

Jensen was practically hyperventilating, but at least he’d stopped hitting and kicking. He turned an incredulous look at Cougar.

“I have fuckin’ breasts, dude! What about that will fuckin’ be fuckin’ okay!” His eyes were practically rolling in his skull from panic. “And how the fuck are we gonna fuckin’ fix it?!”

Aisha snorted, her voice darkly gleeful. “That ain’t all you got, baby. Look down further.”

Jensen goggled at her, even as Clay turned his head to glare at her and snarl, “Not helpin’, Aisha!”

“Dear god…please don’t be what I think she’s saying…” Jensen whispered. Cougar just grimaced.

Yanking one hand out of Cougar’s grasp, Jensen reached down to his crotch to grope his dick…and didn’t find it.

“What the fuck!” Jensen shoved Cougar out of the way and leapt from the couch, his hands roaming his body to take in breasts, narrow waist, flaring hips and the new equipment between his legs. “A girl!” Jensen’s voice was positively shrill with panic. “I’ve been turned into a fuckin’ girl!?!”

At this, Aisha glared at him and snarled, “What’s so fuckin’ wrong about being female!”

Jensen flailed his arms in the air and snarled right back, “Nothin’ if you were fuckin’ _born_ that way! Or if you actually _wanted_ the change! I didn’t! I didn’t want this or ask for this! This fuckin’ girlification wasn’t something I hunted down! I was fuckin’ changed against my will!”

Jensen pulled up short and turned away from Aisha and back to Cougar, his voice tight with horror. “I’ve been fuckin’ violated, man.” He trembled as the weight of what happened settled on him. “They stole my fuckin’ dick, dude. My dick!”

Then he spun to face Clay, anger radiating from him. “Clay, we’ve gotta kill ‘em extra hard for this one, Sir. They stole my dick! I mean, that’s gotta be against the Geneva Convention and shit. It’s just not right to steal a man’s dick!”

“Corporal!”

Clay’s barked command voice brought Jensen up short and halted his panic attack.

“We will find out how they did this to you and if there is a way to reverse it. _That_ is the priority right now. After…well, after that, _then_ we will kill them all very very hard. I promise.”


	3. Dirty Socks and Boxer Shorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Dirty Socks and Boxer Shorts  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RELATIONSHIPS: Cougar/Jensen (implied)  
> RATING: PG  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock, DC/Vertigo  
> SUMMARY: Pooch and Jensen discuss love and laundry.

POOCH: So…are you two serious?

JENSEN: Er…I’ve washed his dirty socks and underwear. Wha’da you think?

POOCH: _*pulls a disgusted face while waving a hand in front of his nose*_ I think that anyone willingly putting up with that kinda stink is probably stupid in love…plus deserves a medal. 

JENSEN: _*snickers*_ Yeah, his socks do get kinda ripe. It’s the Athlete’s Foot. _*shrugs*_ It’s all we can do to keep it from turning into jungle rot some months.

POOCH: And that’s just the socks. _*chuckles*_ I can’t even imagine having to touch his boxers. I mean, any piece of cloth that’s been used to filter his burrito farts is too scary to contemplate.

JENSEN: _*bursts out laughing*_ So…what? Instead of washing ‘em I should load ‘em up into a bazooka tube and shoot ‘em at the enemy?

POOCH: _*goes still with a wild grin on his face as he contemplates doing just that*_ Oh god! _*bursts into hysterical giggles*_

POOCH: Can you just imagine the enemy’s reaction to being bombed with Cougar’s dirty socks and boxers?

JENSEN: _*snorts*_ Ta hell with the enemy! Picture having ta explain it ta Clay!

POOCH: _*blinks once, twice, and erupts into loud belly laughs*_

JENSEN: _*faux look of innocence on face*_ Why no, Colonel. I don’t know how Cougar’s laundry got stuffed down into the bazooka tube.

POOCH: _*wraps arms around stomach and heaves in a big breath before laughing hysterically some more*_

JENSEN: The enemy would all be like, ‘Hey! Why’s it raining dirty socks and undershorts?’ before they got a big ol’ whiff of the stink and keeled over in a dead faint.

POOCH: Uh, uh… _*wheezes*_ Stop! Please! _*giggles uncontrollably*_

JENSEN: Of course, Roque would be all pouty ‘cause he didn’t get to stab anyone and would probably argue that his boxers and dirty socks would make a much better weapon.

POOCH: _*snort-wheeze*_

JENSEN: If we really want to use the power of Cougar’s stinky feet against the enemy we could have Clay hold one of his combat boots while interrogating prisoners. He’d be all like, ‘Answer the question or have your nose shoved into the Boot ‘O Doom.’ I’m pretty sure it’d be at least as effective as threatening them with Roque’s knives.

POOCH: _*gasping for breath between giggles*_ Oh god…stop. It hurts!

COUGAR: _*walks into the room and stops to stare at Pooch laughing like an asthmatic loon*_

JENSEN: Hey Cougs. S’up?

COUGAR: _*tips head at Pooch with a questioning look of curiosity on his face*_

JENSEN: Oh Pooch? _*shrugs*_ He just thinks the idea of me doing laundry is hilarious. He’s been trying to convince me to rig it to explode instead. I have no idea why. 

COUGAR: _*gives Jensen a pointed look of mild annoyance and pulls one pant leg up slightly*_ You turned my socks pink.

POOCH: _*glances at Cougar’s pink sock*_ …holy shit… _*wails with laughter and collapses to the floor*_


	4. Ceremonial Challenge of the Imperial Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Ceremonial Challenge of the Imperial Consort  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: PG  
> WARNING: AU  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock, DC/Vertigo  
> SUMMARY: Tradition also dictated how she would choose a Consort to further her Royal Bloodline.

Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Jolene of the Galactic Empire, Beloved Daughter of the Goddess Isis, Pharaoh of the Royal House of Ra-Tet, Loveliest Flower of the Human Race, sat upon her emerald and diamond encrusted gilt throne and stared imperiously out over the surging crowd chanting her name. Her serene expression hid the fact that her official robes were heavy, hot, and itched horribly. The gemstone covered Imperial Crown was beautiful, but it was not balanced very well, so it had an alarming tendency to slide forward over her eyes if she didn’t hold her head steady at a very precise angle. This of course, caused her neck and shoulders to tense into painfulness. Plus, her feet hurt.

It was not easy to appear regally remote and above common needs as a living daughter of the Goddess, sent from the Heavens to rule over the masses of humanity. Jolene didn’t think that anyone in this day and age really believed that propaganda about the Royal Family, but it was tradition so she must at least act the part.

Tradition ruled Jolene’s life more firmly than she ruled the galaxy. Tradition dictated what she wore, where she lived, what she ate, and how she interacted with everyone when not behind closed doors. It was only then that she was allowed to be ‘just Jolene’ and not ‘Her Imperial Majesty’.

Tradition also dictated how she would choose a Consort to further her Royal Bloodline. It was also why she was sitting out under the hot double suns of the Royal Planet Abundenum in ancient formal robes when she’d rather be almost anywhere else.

As per the dictates of several thousand years of tradition, upon an Empress’ (or an Imperial Princess’) twentieth birthday, a galaxy wide competition begins to determine the next Imperial Consort and father of the next Empress. The potential suitor must pass many tests just to enter the aggressive phases of the tournament. His health, both physical and mental, is tested extensively. His family history is examined in minute detail for unfavorable genetic conditions and political insurgency. The suitor must meet very stringent requirements; mentally, physically, socially, and educationally.

Once the pool of suitors is winnowed down to the best of the best, the challenges begin. That’s where she was now; the Opening Ceremonies of the Imperial Consort Tournament. She was required to sit on her throne, cold and remote, and watch impassively and unbiased as her fate was decided for her.

She was not fond of this particular tradition. She felt it was terribly unfair that the more powerful and important a person was, the less control over their own personal life they actually had.

Her gold and green throne was perched on a floating platform. Her personal bodyguard, Aisha, sat at her feet on a small settee even as the two of them were surrounded by her closest personal advisors, a bevy of courtiers, and a flow of nameless servants attending to her every need. Hover-corders flew through the air recording the event from every angle for posterity. They also projected her image onto the 30 meter tall digital screens that were floating over the crowds.

Commentators described every action in rich detail and explained the events and their historical significance to the galaxy even though every citizen of the Galactic Empire was well aware of the tradition.

This fanfare was expected as the Imperial Consort Tournament was a huge social and political event. The wealthy, powerful, and famous came out in droves for the opportunity to show off their jewels and finery as well as to show their proximity to the throne. The various reporters interviewed everyone and the crowds adored the chaotic mix of sensationalism with ancient pomp and ceremony.

Through it all, Jolene sat in her itchy uncomfortable gown, her neck aching from balancing her crown upon her head and tried not to sigh out loud, or worse still, fall asleep from sheer boredom. She grit her teeth behind her smile and forced herself to pay attention.

The morning dragged on; a seemingly endless parade of Noble Families, Corporate Sector Merchant Barons, military heroes, vid celebrities, and the ever moving swarm of commoners.

Finally…FINALLY…everything was in place to introduce the Royal Suitors to the galaxy…and to Jolene.

There were five suitors. Each of them had passed all of the tests so far and had much to offer the Empire, Jolene, and would make a fine father for the next Empress. They were, of course, ranked based on their scores so far by the system that had tested them. From now on, however, the challenges would be different…instead of merely trying to reach a certain standard to pass; they would compete directly against each other. At the end of each trial, the one with the poorest showing would be removed from the competition.

The first suitor was teleported onto a stage across the courtyard from the platform Jolene’s throne sat upon. He was a tall thin man with dark curling hair clipped short, green eyes in a caramel colored smiling face. He was dressed in the traditional robes of an educator and held a Sacred Scroll of Isis in one hand and carried a Staff of Mercy in the other.

Jolene carefully softened her visage at him. The crowd expected it and who was she to disappoint?

“Royal Suitor Vishal Anjiaz” an announcer’s voice rang through the air for all to hear. “The firstborn son of one of Devine Isis’ priestess’, Vishal has dedicated his life to Her good works. He is an educator working with the galactic charity ‘Hope for Children’ and has spent much time devoted to raising the educational standards on poverty stricken and over populated planets.”

The 30 meter hovering digital screens split the images on them so that they showed her face on one side and Vishal Anjiaz on the other as a different announcer quickly listed some of Vishal’s personal accomplishments in his chosen field.

The first announcer’s voice came back after Vishal’s qualities and qualifications were done being enumerated. “Yes, Royal Suitor Vishal Anjiaz is a popular favorite with many of the commoners who feel that he understands their plight and cares for them. Vishal also has the official backing of the Galactic Council of Educators and Trainers, the Assembly of Charitable Foundations, the Imperial Department of Welfare and Human Services, and Starshine Branch of the Temple of Isis.”

The crowd ooohed at that last bit and Jolene allowed her expression to soften into a tiny smile for her potential consort despite the fact that he did nothing for her on a personal level.

With one last wave at the crowd and a deep bow of respect to herself, Vishal Anjiaz was teleported from the stage.

“He should be next.” Aisha whispered from somewhere around her knees and Jolene suppressed a real grin. Her eyes slid sideways to take in General Coleman, her top military advisor and Minister of Defense as well as Colonel Clay, the Head of her Security detail. Both men seemed stoic to those that didn’t know them, but Jolene could read the excitement in their eyes. It was no secret to anyone that they were solidly rooting for the next of her Royal Suitors. In fact, all three of them had worked with the man at one point in time and liked him on a professional and personal level. Rumor stated that the General had actually assigned a three man team to help their personal choice prepare for the tournament.

A beam of light signaled the arrival of the next Royal Suitor and Jolene’s eyes swung back to the stage.

The man appeared in full military regalia and wearing enough ribbons and metals upon his chest to proclaim louder than words that he was a true living and breathing hero. He was average in height, but his shoulders were broad and his physical strength was obvious to see in the lines of his muscles. His hair was clipped so short he was nearly bald and his deep chocolate colored skin was warm in the sunlight. He was beautiful in the way that only men can be and simply radiated an appeal that was at once protective and predatory. Jolene felt her panties get a bit damp under her gown as her body reacted to him on a visceral level.

“Royal Suitor Linwood Porteous,” the announcer’s voice rang out, “A Master Sergeant in the Imperial Galactic Mechanized Infantry, Linwood is not only a certified pilot and mechanic of both light and heavy mechanized armor, but also for both planetary and interstellar troop carriers. He has dedicated his life to protecting the Empire from the depredations of the Kreshczik Collective.”

The floating digital screens split again, but this time with Sergeant Porteous sharing the screen with her. This allowed both her and the crowd, to get a close up view of his face and all of the ribbons and metals on his chest. Jolene’s expression needed to be somewhat aloof and distant as the Empress, but both General Coleman and Colonel Clay were beaming at the man with pride. Still, Jolene dipped her eyes slightly with feigned shyness and then looked out at him again. Sergeant Porteous noticed her tiny flirtation and blushed. That reaction made her tummy flutter for real.

The second announcer went on to list his accomplishments and qualities. It read as a list of technical skills and locations of some of the worst battles the Empire had fought against the Kreshczik Collective. The longer the list went on, the more it became obvious that this Suitor was not only gifted with intelligence and skill, he was also a brave and daring warrior who didn’t know the meaning of the word surrender.

The first announcers’ voice came back after the list of his accomplishments was finished. “Royal Suitor Linwood is a favorite among those citizens whose lives have been saved by the military in general as well as by those saved by the Sergeant himself. He also has the official backing of the Imperial Galactic Mechanized Infantry, the Coalition of Planetary Defense Forces, the Imperial Assembly of Engineers and Mechanics, The Galactic Guild of Pilots, and the Interstellar Association of Arms and Munitions Manufacturers.”

When the announcer went silent, Sergeant Porteous went from parade rest to looking right at her and offering the highest form of salute the military practiced. He held the form perfectly and in perfect stillness. After a long moment, she nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement and in an instant he disappeared in a swirl of teleporter lights.

In his place appeared a slim man with shiny black hair framing a serious bronze face. He was dressed in formal robes of modest cut and the finest material. His jewelry was both expensive and subdued. Everything about him spoke of old wealth and noble heritage.

“Royal Suitor Gavin Nguyen,” the announcer stated, “is the youngest son of the Nobel House of Nguyen. Gavin has dedicated himself to following his family’s traditions of interplanetary economics and is employed by the Interstellar Financial Directorate. He is one of their Senior Account Managers for several of the galaxy’s largest corporations.”

Gavin’s picture was shown on the digital screen as another announcer listed the various planetary and interstellar companies whose financial accounts he’d worked on. A few abstract papers and Empire wide financial reports he’d authored were also mentioned.

Jolene listened with half an ear, noting that while he was a good choice for the Empire itself, she didn’t have any reaction to him at all on a personal level. Not like she’d had with the Master Sergeant. Gavin was a good looking man, but Linwood had an animal magnetism about him that she couldn’t help but respond to.

Then the first announcer was back, “It’s easy to see why Royal Suitor Gavin is a favorite with the noble and wealthy. Gavin has the official backing of House Nguyen, the Interstellar Financial Directorate, the Corporate Sector, and many of the noble families.”

Gavin Nguyen offered a slight, but polite head tilt of acknowledgement to the crowd and then a deep bow of respect to her. Jolene smiled slightly and he was teleported away.

In his place stood a shorter man with a thin mustache and curly dark hair. He wore the official robes of a healer and carried a Cadmus staff in one hand.

“Royal Suitor Rafael Martinez,” began the announcer, “is a practitioner of orthopedic medicine at the Ballantine Temple of Healing. Dedicating his life to the health and wellbeing of the Empire’s citizens, Rafael often volunteers his time and skills to free clinics for the poor. He has also worked to pass on his skills and knowledge, his recent apprentice having passed her medical trials with full marks.”

Rafael’s image was projected onto the digital screen even as the second announcer began to list the types of medical procedures he was licensed to practice and the number of patients he’d tended to. His volunteer work with the poor was mentioned as was his training of other healers.

“Royal Suitor Rafael is a crowd favorite with the sick and with the healers alike, and it’s easy to see why. Rafael has the official backing of the Imperial Medical Society, the Galactic Pharmacology Guild, the Interstellar Medical Device Alliance, the Imperial Assembly of Nurses, and the Foundation for the Prevention of Childhood Diseases.”

Jolene offered him a soft smile and he beamed a joyful smile back at her just as he was teleported away in a flash of light.

A tall thin man in a white suit was left in his place. He had a clean shaven face and short curly brown hair. His smile was…amused. Aisha hissed with what Jolene knew was true anger and she risked a quick glance down at her bodyguard. Aisha glared with active hatred at the man.

“Royal Suitor Maxwell Leonhardt,” the announcer boomed, “is a Supervisory Special Agent with Imperial Internal Intelligence.”

“Max…the spy.” Colonel Clay growled softly under his breath and Jolene glanced at him to see that, just like Aisha, Clay was glaring with revulsion at her suitor.

“Maxwell,” the announcer continued, “has worked hard with various police and security forces as well as several planetary defense forces all across the Empire in his ongoing efforts to help keep its citizens safe from criminal elements.”

Maxwell’s image was splashed across the big screen even as the second reporter listed the imperial departments and forces he’d worked with as well as providing a who’s-who list of criminals he’d helped to capture or kill. It read like the biography of a highly decorated Imperial Police Officer, but Aisha and Clay’s reaction said otherwise.

“Yes,” the first announcer’s voice said, “It is easy to see why Royal Suitor Maxwell is the favorite among Law Enforcement and the Intelligence communities. Maxwell has official backing from Imperial Internal Intelligence, the Deep Space Logistics Agency, Goliath Interstellar Fuel and Planetary Recourses, and many of the noble families.”

Aisha was practically growling under her breath even as Jolene studied this last suitor. She couldn’t understand why both her bodyguard and the Head of her Security was so against him…until she looked into his eyes. He was smiling, but there was nothing in his eye but a ruthless and arrogant intelligence that was deeply amused by all of this fuss. There was no compassion, no caring,…no sanity.

Jolene shivered with revulsion.


	5. Mid-afternoon Entertainment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Mid-afternoon Entertainment  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: PG  
> CHARACTERS: Clay, Pooch, Cougar/Jensen (implied)  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock, DC/Vertigo, Dark Castle.  
> SUMMARY: Cougar and Jensen aren’t subtle. Clay and Pooch aren’t oblivious.

_Mid-afternoon Entertainment_

Clay watched, silent and amused, as Cougar slinked across the sitting room and over to the window. A flash of dark eyes under the hat brim to ensure that Jensen was watching, Cougar slowly leaned back against the sill and posed. He flexed his biceps and tucked his thumbs into his front jeans pockets so that his big hands framed his bulge. Then he smirked, the smug fucker.

Trying not to grin at the live entertainment happening right in front of him, Clay glanced over at Pooch and raised one eyebrow to silently ask if he was catching this. Pooch responded by rolling his own eyes and giving Clay a look that proclaimed _‘Duh! How could I miss the obvious?’_

A slight nod acknowledging that truth, Clay looked back over in time to see Cougar lock eyes with an utterly fascinated Jensen. Cougar blatantly ran his eyes slowly and deliberately down Jensen’s body to his feet, licked his lips, and then slowly ran them back up to meet Jensen’s blue eyes which were quickly darkening with arousal. Jensen fidgeted a bit and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Clay had to bite back a grin at that. If Jensen had a puppy-dog tail, he’d be wagging it. Truthfully, the whole scene would be cute if the two people involved weren’t trained killers. Of course, Jensen tended to revert into an awkward semi-shy dork where Cougar was concerned. As if to prove his point, Cougar bit his bottom lip and Jensen gasped softly, his cheeks going pink under his goatee and stubble. Hell, Clay had known teenage virgin girls that blushed less.

Cougar must have liked it though because he leered at Jensen, then tipped his head towards the back bedrooms and waggled his eyebrows up and down before giving a questioning shrug. In response, Jensen’s eyes went glassy for a brief moment before he gave a full body twitch and nodded his head so hard it nearly fell off. Clay pressed his lips together hard to keep from laughing. This show was better than TV.

A slow nod and then Cougar pushed off the window sill. He lifted a hand to tip his hat at Pooch and then at Clay himself. Smirking smugly, he then turned and slowly sauntered across the room and down the hall towards the bedrooms. Jensen’s eyes were glued to Cougar’s ass the entire time.

After a long moment, when Jensen could no longer ogle Cougar’s ass, he turned back to face the room only to see both Clay and Pooch grinning at him. Jensen’s blush was back with a vengeance.

“What?!”

Pooch snorted and Clay’s eyes cut over to see Pooch giving Jensen a _‘don’t be stupid’_ look. Clay wanted to laugh, but forced it down and turned back to grin at Jensen.

“Nothing Corporal, just…” Clay forced a concerned expression onto his face and frowned slightly, “are you feeling alright? You’re a bit flushed.”

Jensen responded with a wide-eyed deer-caught-in-headlights panicky expression and a high pitched squeak. Clay nodded his head solemnly as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer to his question.

“Maybe…” Clay began with completely faked concern, “maybe you should go lay down. Take a nap or something to help you feel better. In fact, have Cougar check you for fever.”

Jensen squeaked again. Clay absolutely could not look over at Pooch again or he’d bust something laughing. Then Jensen gave a quick jerky nod and scurried out of the sitting room in the direction that Cougar had gone.

Clay stared at the spot Jensen had been, his grin deepening until his dimples were showing. Then he chuckled softly and finally looked over at Pooch to see the man grinning back at him.

“That was cruel, Colonel. Funny as fuck…but cruel.”

Clay’s grin didn’t lessen, but he arched an eyebrow.

“Cruel?”

Pooch snorted and shook his head.

“You just ordered Jensen to go climb in bed and have Cougar fuss over him to make him feel better…which was what he’d been planning anyway.”

Clay’s grin grew smug, “So…I’m helpful.”

Pooch gave him a deadpan expression.

“Except for the part where Jensen thinks we’re clueless about what’s **really** going on back there.”

“I don’t know why,” Clay snorted, “Subtle, those boys are not.”

Pooch sighed and shook his head again.

“No shit.”


	6. Adventures in Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Adventures in Babysitting  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: PG-13  
> WARNING: Kidfic!  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock. DC/Vertigo. Dark Castle.  
> SUMMARY: He felt so old because after Max’s de-aging machine took 20 years off of all of them, Clay was the only adult left in the Losers.

  
_Adventures in Babysitting_

Clay closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and silently vowed yet again to kill Max in creative and painful ways. Just as soon as he figured out how come he felt so very very old despite the fact that he’d been hit with Max’s funky de-aging machine and was turned into a 25 year old again.

“That’s mine Pooch! Give it back or I’m telling Clay on you!”

Clay opened his eyes to see 11 year old Pooch holding an iPad in the air over his head while the almost 5 years old Jensen jumped up and down futilely trying to grab it.

Oh yeah…he felt so old because after Max’s de-aging machine took 20 years off of them all, Clay was the only adult left in the Losers. Jensen was the youngest at nearly 5, with Cougar next at just turned 6. Then came Pooch at age 11. Clay himself was 25 years old again.

He had thought that riding herd on those three as adults had been difficult? It was nothing compared to corralling them as sugar fuelled kids. At the moment, he really really missed Roque. Roque would have ended up being 19 years old; a perfect babysitter. Plus as a bonus, he’d still be able to drive…unlike his Transportation Specialist.

“Clay!”

Clay scowled at the boys. “Pooch! Give Jensen back his iPad. Jensen! Stop kicking Pooch.” He pivoted and pointed at the quiet dark haired child sitting on the sofa, “Why can’t you two act like Cougar?”

All eyes turned to focus on Cougar. He blushed light pink and tried to hide his dark chocolate eyes behind a curtain of long curly hair. Clay had seen that same movement a hundred times in the past, but on a young child it looked very shy and adorable instead of what he was used to from adult Cougar; aloof and indifferent with total badass dismissal. The very thought of Cougar as ‘shy’ and ‘adorable’ was enough to make Clay blink in shock at his own brain. Clearly, he wasn’t just de-aged, but hysterical too.

He was yanked out of his own startled thoughts by Pooch rolling his eyes and shoving the iPad at Jensen, who grabbed it before sticking his tongue out at Pooch and running over to jump on the sofa next to Cougar. Huffing in exasperation, Pooch crossed his arms over his thin chest and scowled up at Clay. Clay didn’t have the heart to break it to Pooch that at 11 years of age, his best scowl wasn’t so much intimidating as it was pouty.

“I’m bored man, and these two are just babies so they can’t do anything fun!” Pooch’s voice was a whine.

“Can so!” Jensen insisted, looking hurt.

Clay blinked twice and tried very hard to pull up his poker face. From his own perspective, Pooch was little more than a baby himself, but it wouldn’t do to make that opinion known. He didn’t need the headache that snit-fit would cause.

****

“Look out!”

_kkrrruusshhh_

Clay’s head snapped up at the shout and he was on his feet at the crash. He dashed into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway; gaped jawed and staring.

Cougar stood next to the counter in front of a pile of broken glass. Spaghetti sauce puddled around the glass shards and splashed all up the boy’s legs and stomach. A shocked look was frozen on his face. Jensen was standing on the counter next to him; one hand reaching into an open cabinet to grab a box of cookies. A sheepish guilty expression was on his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too, honest!” Jensen’s babble had a hint of panic to it.

“What the fuck? Did you throw a jar of spaghetti sauce at Cougar?”

“No!” Jensen looked stricken at the very idea and Cougar’s head shook back and forth supporting his denial.

“Then what the hell happened?”

“It was an accident!” Jensen nearly wailed. “I bumped the jar getting a snack!”

Clay sighed and eyed the two of them tiredly. Jensen’s bottom lip was wobbly and his eyes were watery with unshed tears. Cougar was just standing there staring at the mess, still as a stature and dripping sauce.

“You okay there, Cougs?”

Cougar looked up at him with wide startled eyes and nodded slowly.

“I…I feel like a meatball.”

Clay and Jensen stared at him a moment and the Clay snorted while Jensen burst into relieved boyish giggles.

****

Clay’s eyes snapped open as he was suddenly awakened. His bedroom door wasn’t shut completely so a shaft of dim light was coming in from the hallway. Two sets of quiet feel padded across the floor to his bedside and he tensed up, expecting an attack.

“We should not be in here.” Cougar’s voice was a whispered hiss.

“I don’t care. Clay’ll understand.” Jensen’s voice was also a whisper, but held an undertone of stubbornness.

Letting out a tired sigh as recognition set in, he relaxed again. Clay turned his head to glare blurrily at them. They looked ridiculously young and innocent as small boys, even if they did have all their adult memories still.

“What are you two doing up at o’dark thirty?”

Cougar blushed and looked down and away even as Jensen flashed his best fake smile. Under the shyness and bravado both boys looked pale and shaken.

“Er…” Jensen bit his lip for a second and then confessed. “Nightmares.”

Clay blinked at them and then nodded and lifted up one side of his blankets. Cougar and Jensen didn’t hesitate to climb up into the bed with him. Cougar slid right under the covers, but Jensen stood up and stepped right over Clay and climbed under the blankets on his other side. Then they spent a moment or two getting comfy pressed up against his sides. Jensen naturally took longer to settle. Clay adjusted the blankets into place and then reached down with both hands to pat the boys on their bottoms just to double check they were both wearing their Pampers Pull-Ups. After all, accidents happened.

“We’re both clean and dry. We changed before we came in.” Jensen whispered.

Clay nodded and said, “Just checking. I don’t like waking up wet any better than you two do.”

Jensen gave a little giggle and nodded. Cougar just grunted an acknowledgement and popped his thumb into his mouth, his trigger finger hooked over the top of his nose. Clay would never in a million years admit that was adorable, but he did happen to have taken quite a few pictures of Cougar sucking his thumb.

The boys drifted off fairly swiftly, but that left Clay awake in the dark with nothing but his thoughts. They had all been left with all of their memories intact, but their bodies were physically adjusted to the age they were 20 years ago. For Clay that was in some ways a blessing. He was in better health than he had been in for a long while. His back and knees, especially, were enjoying the reprieve.

For the other three, it was in a very real way a living nightmare. Pooch had been an early bloomer during his first childhood and it looked like it was going to be that way again. The poor guy was in the beginning stages of puberty already; newly sprouting armpit hair, inappropriate boners and all. It was, in many ways, even worse for Jensen and Cougar. 

Cougar wet the bed nearly every night and sheepishly admitted that hadn’t stopped during his real childhood until he was around 8 or so. Jensen wasn’t so much a bedwetter as he just had accidents randomly day or night, especially when he was distracted because he forgot. They weren’t sure if it was the ADHD, the Asperger’s, or a combination of the two. Still, Clay had never thought he’d need to order his team to ‘go potty’, but he’d learned that it was necessary to remind Jensen to go pee every two hours or so. It cut down on the number of accidents.

This climbing into bed with him over nightmares was new though. He’d known for years that Cougar and Jensen shared a bed most nights. The one time it’d come up ‘nightmares’ had been the reason they’d given and he’d never pressed for more. That they could get each other through the rough patches had been good enough for him. It seemed that now, they needed more than each other. 

Clay thought that maybe they needed someone big…an adult; someone large, strong, and protective. Especially since neither one of them was up for kicking ass and taking names anymore. They were vulnerable…and they knew it. Thinking of it that way, Clay didn’t mind being their teddy bear so much.

A soft shuffling sound came from the doorway and he glanced up to see Pooch standing there looking sheepish. Clay grinned up at him and waved him in.

“Hey Pooch. You come to join in the hug fest?”

Pooch shook his head, but a look of longing flashed across his face. Clay could get that he might not want to admit it. Pooch was older after all. So, he lifted a corner of the blanket near Cougar and nodded.

“Come’on and climb in.”

Pooch hesitated a moment and then dashed over and climbed into the bed and curled up behind Cougar.

****

Clay was stirring the stew he was cooking when Cougar ran into the kitchen and began trying to push him in direction he’d just come from. Clay raised an eyebrow and grinned down at the little boy shoving on his hip. Cougar didn’t have the height or strength to move Clay if he didn’t want to move. At least, not anymore. Cougar scowled up at him.

“Vamos!”

Clay’s grin widened until his dimples came out.

“What? Why?”

“The truck ate Pooch!”

Clay’s grin froze for a second before shifting into a deep frown.

“Wait! The truck _ate_ Pooch?”

Cougar nodded, his dark eyes wide and his curls bobbing around his head.

“Si! You must free him.”

Leaving the stirring spoon in the stew, Clay turned and jogged to the garage with Cougar running to follow. He rushed to the front of the truck where he could see the hood was up. Then, as he got close enough, he saw two child sized legs hanging over the side of the truck’s front quarter panel. They were so short the feet only reached to the top of the tire’s rim.

“What the fuck?”

At the sound of his voice, Jensen’s worried and grease smudged face peeked up over the legs.

“Help Clay! Pooch is stuck. I can’t get him loose.”

He walked around to the front of the truck to take in the situation. Pooch’s upper body was lying across part of the truck’s engine and one arm was thrust down into it. Jensen was crouched on the other side’s quarter panel trying to pull Pooch’s arm free.

Grimacing, Clay leaned over to try and look down into the guts of the engine to see why Pooch was stuck.

“Pooch?”

“I…I’m okay. Uh…my hand is just stuck.”

“No blood or broken bones?”

Pooch shook his head. “No. I’m not hurt. I just can’t get my hand out.”

Clay nodded even as he felt a wave of relief that Pooch wasn’t hurt. Injuries were inconvenient as adults, but as kids? Clay didn’t even want to think of all the issues and problems that would cause. He’d rather not have to explain things to CPS in an effort to keep his team out of the foster care system.

“Okay. We can do this. We’ll get you free.” Clay tilted his head to try and get a better angle to see down into the engine. “Do you know what you’re stuck on?”

Pooch nodded. “Yeah. I was reaching for a dropped screwdriver when the belt shifted. It got tight around my wrist and now I can’t get loose.”

Clay nodded along as he listened, his eyes trying to peer down to the boy’s fingers.

“So, Pooch, what’s the easiest and fastest way to loosen the belt?”

“Here Clay,” Jensen piped up.

Clay looked over to see the little blonde boy pat a wrench.

“JJ got the wrench on it okay,” Pooch explained, “but he’s not strong enough to shift the tensioner.”

Clay reached out and grabbed hold of the wrench. Pushing it, he could feel resistance as it shifted the tensioner and moved the belt.

“Yessss!”

Grinning wildly, Pooch pulled his arm free and held up the screwdriver triumphantly. Clay eased the pressure on the tensioner back until he could let go of the wrench. Then he grabbed Pooch’s arm and looked at his hand and wrist in concern.

“I’m fine Clay.”

Clay snorted.

“Says you. Go wash up and then let Cougs look at it in case it needs ice.”

Pooch sighed and rolled his eyes, but he handed over the screwdriver and dropped down to the floor.

“Yes, Sir.”

Clay pretended that Pooch’s voice wasn’t petulant and pouty. Instead he watched as Cougar herded Pooch down the side of the truck and out of the garage. Clay turned to grin at Jensen’s grease streaked face.

“You know…Cougar makes a hella good sheep dog.”

Jensen burst out into giggles.


	7. Morpheus and Aphrodite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLE: Morpheus and Aphrodite  
> FANDOM: The Losers  
> RATING: hard R or poss NC-17  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle/Jock, DC/Vertigo, Dark Castle.  
> SUMMARY: Middle of the night shmoopy sleepy smut.

_Morpheus and Aphrodite_

He was hovering on the edge of waking up, but was still mostly asleep. He was warm. The bed was soft, and the blankets were fluffy. Cougar was pressed along his back and nuzzling his shoulder.

Jensen smiled without opening his eyes. All was right in his world and he was content to drift on the edge of consciousness just being happy. And warm. And comfy.

Cougar shifted a bit and Jensen became aware of his own legs which were tangled with Cougar’s. Furry shins rubbing against his calves. It felt good so he hummed softly in approval and rubbed back gently. Spanish accented muttering of sleepy nonsense teased his ear and then a whiskery kiss pressed into his shoulder.

Jensen’s grin widened as he drifted closer to actually being awake. He was warm and comfy and happy. So, apparently, was his penis…although it was waking up faster than his brain. It was a delightful sensation to lay there while his cock slowly filled and grew heavy. 

His penis, Jensen muzzily decided, could recognize Cougar’s voice and that’s why it was taking an interest in things. Of course, now that his penis was awake and thinking of Cougar, it also wanted to touch Cougar…or have Cougar touch it. Jensen was sleepy and comfy and didn’t really want to move, so he tried to spontaneously develop ESP and use telepathy to convince Cougar to reach around Jensen’s hip and give him a nice slow handjob.

Sadly, Jensen’s attempt at ESP didn’t work and his penis remained handjob free. Jensen considered drifting back down into sleep, but his penis complained it wanted Cougar, not sleep. And if Cougar wouldn’t come to it, Jensen’s penis would go to Cougar.

Sighing softly, Jensen rolled over so that he was facing Cougar. Softly muttered Spanish peppered the air while he was shifting, but as soon as he was even semi-settled Cougar’s arms wrapped around Jensen and pulled him in tight. That was what Jensen wanted anyway, so he felt completely justified letting his sleepy smile turn smug.

Soft silky hair was clinging to his stubble and tickling his nose even as bristly whiskers rubbed at his collarbone. A heavy muscular arm was draped over his waist with a big hand splayed across his back. A boney knee followed by a furry leg pushed gently between his own and he slid his top leg over top of Cougar’s, tangling them together again. He was surrounded by a delightful warm scent of clean skin, shampoo and a spicy muskiness his brain simply identified as Cougar. As a bonus, his penis was lined up perfectly with Cougar’s hip.

Humming with pleasure, Jensen thrust gently against Cougar. A pulse of pleasure throbbed through his body, sweet and slow like molasses. He nuzzled his nose into Cougar’s hair and curled his shoulder’s inward, a lazy and sleepy attempt to get closer as he thrust gently along Cougar’s hip again. “Cabra en celo,” was whispered into his collarbone. Jensen could feel Cougar’s lips and whiskers brushing against his skin and he chuckled softly, still partly asleep.

The arm over his waist shifted a bit and Jensen could feel the calloused fingers of Cougar’s hand drag slowly down each ridge and bump of his back as if he were counting Jensen’s spine bones. Those gentle fingers left a wave of tingles and goosebumps in their wake. Jensen pressed a kiss onto the top of Cougar’s head and wrapped his arm around his lover’s broad shoulders, his fingers tangling in long strands of living silk.

He thrust again just as Cougar shifted slightly and thrust as well. His penis was still pressed delightfully against Cougar’s hip, but now a line of thick heat pressed into the crease between his hip and groin. Jensen instantly identified that hot hardness as Cougar’s own erection and his lips stretched into a full smile.

“Not the only horny goat, am I?” his voice was deep and husky with both sleep and arousal.

A chuckle rumbled in Cougar’s chest. “Usted es contagiosa.”

Jensen snorted softly, “Must be a STD, huh.”

Cougar nipped at his collarbone. It could have been a sharp sensation, but somehow it was drowsy and languid. It raised his arousal without adding energy or urgency, simply another sleepy sensation added to the slow relaxed buildup of pleasure.

Jensen curled the leg he’d slid over Cougar’s and braced himself slightly so he could more easily rock against his lover. Their movements were leisurely and sultry like two big lions basking in the sun. His entire body throbbed lazily with warmth and pleasure that was equal amounts of sleepy devotion and physical arousal.

Cougar’s fingers splayed wide and pressed against Jensen’s lower back. Then he flexed his big bicep and pulled Jensen closer. Jensen moaned softly in approval. Closer to Cougar was always a good thing.

Jensen rocked his hips, picking up the slow languid rhythm slightly. He could feel Cougar’s skin getting slick as his penis leaked wetness and pressed against him. It felt so good, sending tingling pleasure over his flesh in waves. Jensen’s breathing deepened and he pushed his hand through the heavy weight of Cougar’s hair. His palm cupped the back of his skull, holding him tight. Cougar kissed his throat in response, his soft lips a smooth warm press even as his beard scratched gently.

“Te amo, Cougs.” he breathed.

Cougar licked up Jensen’s neck and murmured softly in his ear.

“Dios, yo tambien te quiero. Mucho. Maldita sea…usted es tan hermoso, tan carinoso y tan calido. Tu eres mi vida…mi todo.”

Jensen shivered. He loved it that stoic silent Cougar whispered sweet adorations in bed when he was sleepy and happy. Those words, so jealously guarded during the day were only for Jensen and only in their bed. They touched him in ways nothing else could. He pressed himself closer and gasped as he rocked his hips a tiny bit harder and faster.

“Yes…anything, everything…I’m yours.”

He tugged on Cougar’s hair, tilting his face up. He leaned down and kissed him. Jensen tasted him in the smooth slide of lips on lips and tongue on tongue. He pulled back just enough to gasp in a breath and finally opened his eyes simply to gaze directly into Cougar’s.

“Always.” he promised.

“Siempre.” Cougar whispered in return.

His vision whited out in sheer pleasure as he came, slowly spilling himself on Cougar in deep lazy pulses. Then Cougar gasped, his breath mingling with Jensen’s as he splashed his desire on Jensen’s hip and groin. They held each other while they trembled until their limbs grew heavy and their muscles relaxed. Jensen’s eyes slid shut slowly and he curled into Cougar with a quiet hum of delight.

“Dormir amada…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _Cabra en cello_   
>  Horny goat
> 
> _Usted es contagiosa._   
>  You are contagious.
> 
> _Te amo, Cougs._  
>  I love you, Cougs.
> 
> _Dios, yo tambien te quiero. Mucho. Maldita sea…usted es tan hermoso, tan carinoso y tan calido. Tu eres mi vida…mi todo._  
>  God, I love you too. So much. Damn…you are so beautiful, so affectionate and so warm. You are my life…my everything.
> 
> _Siempre._  
>  Always.
> 
> _Dormir amada…_  
>  Sleep beloved…


	8. The Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GENRE: AU, fantasy  
> DISCLAIMER: Diggle & Jock, DC & Vertigo, Dark Castle  
> SUMMARY: When apprentice mage Jensen gets a distressed call for help from his twin sister Jessa, he hires a team of mercenary’s to help him in his quest to free his niece Emma from the Warlord Maximillian.
> 
> Part 1: Call to Arms

Jensen was just about to pour three drops of an infusion of salamander oil into his mixture of powdered fire-worm horn, lye, bat guano and thistle leaves suspended in a base of 90 proof spirits when a chorus of trumpets blared out _Call to Arms_ at ear splitting decibels from his robe pocket. He flinched violently in surprise and accidently splashed a whole lot more than just three drops of the salamander oil. His eyes went wide in horror and he ignored the trumpets in favor of diving behind the very heavy and very solid stone work table. 

The explosion was quite spectacular. Plus energetic.

A ball of fire about the size of a pony blasted up out of his cauldron to explode against the stone ceiling with an ear shattering boom that practically rattled the entire tower. Books, scrolls, ladles, stirring rods, weights and measures all went flying through the air. Dust and ash swirled around in a wave of blistering heat before setting down to coat everything.

Jensen crouched down and waited patiently just to be sure it was over. Then he stood up from behind his work table to see that all of the glassware, not to mention the windows, in his potions lab was shattered and that a thick haze of nasty fumes hung in the air. Everything that wasn’t broken had been blown around and the lab was, in a word, a mess.

“Okay…note to self. Be extra super careful when making Boom Juice; it’s touchy as all hell.”

Just then, another blare of trumpets screamed out from his robe pocket. Jensen flinched again, grabbing his chest with a hand as his heart raced from the scare. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jensen hurriedly patted down his pockets until he finally located the source of the noise.

It was a tiny mirror with an ornate brass frame. The mirror was magical, of course, one of a matched set. He’d made them when he was younger so that two people could use them to communicate over long distances. It was this magical working, in fact that brought him to the attention of his teacher and mentor; Battle Mage Coleman. He carried one on his person at all times, the other hung in his family’s farm house on the other side of the world.

Jensen held the mirror in the air in front of him and whispered, “revoh” and let go of it. It obediently floated in the air in front of him. Then he whispered, “danpxe” and it grew from the width of his hand to the size of a ship’s steering wheel. Then he reached out with one hand and tapped the top of the frame and his soot covered reflection faded away to show a blonde haired woman in a plain, but clean, homespun dress. Jensen smiled at his twin sister.

“Hey Jessa.”

She didn’t smile back and he noticed that her eyes were red and puffy as if she’d been crying and she looked tired and stressed. Jessa hadn’t looked this upset since the sickness went through the village and claimed the lives of their father, Jessa’s husband Evar and their firstborn child Jolan. That meant someone was hurt, ill, or the gods forefend, dead. Jensen didn’t think that Jessa would be this upset if the injured person was her new husband Wade, as it was a marriage of convenience and not a love match. So that meant her daughter…Emma.

Jensen’s smile melted away into a serious look of worry and concern.

“Jessa…what’s wrong with Emma?”

Shock washed over Jessa’s face.

“How did you….” She shook her head and didn’t finish asking the question. Jessa always insisted it was a type of magic, but Jensen had always been able to read his twin’s expressions easily. She was an open book in many ways. “She’s gone.”

Jensen blinked.

“I’m sorry. I must have misheard you. What do you mean she’s gone? She’s only eight summers old! How can she be gone!”

Jessa’s face twisted up and she let lose a sound that was half snarl and half sob.

“Wade has been drinking and gambling all our money away…and the farm’s not doing well right now. And taxes were coming due and his gambling debts were piling up. I was going to call you, ask you for help just to get through the winter, but he said no. He said that he was working on a deal to fix everything and I…” she sobbed again, “I believed him.”

“Jessa!” Jensen snapped at her, “Where the hell is Emma!? Where. Did. She. Go.”

Jessa stared at him with a look of pure desolation. “Wade sold her to his former boss; Maximillian.”

***

At the very top of the tower there was a single large room that was the master of the tower’s private study. The room itself was round and there were four large windows, one set at each of the four compass points. The walls were lined with cabinets and bookshelves filled to overflowing with books, scrolls, maps, trinkets, and magical objects of great worth. Unlike most study’s, there was no desk or work table in the middle of the room. In fact, there was no other furniture in there. The space was left empty to show the floor, which was a mosaic map of the entire world.

Jensen slammed open the door to his mentor’s private study and skidded in. His rage was noticeably manifested in a visible aura of violent magic that whirled around him like a storm. The small little knickknacks, magical gadgets, and devices his master had arrayed on many of the shelves vibrated and shimmied in place. Several objects and books began to glow in reaction to his magic and a set of windchimes hanging near the west window began to sing out soft bell-like tones.

His master, the Battle Mage Coleman, ignored Jensen in favor of gazing out the north window to the mountains beyond. The man was old; his silvery hair cut close to his skull and the hands sticking out of the silken grey battle robes had knuckles that were gnarled with the beginning of arthritis and skin that was turning papery. Resting on one of his still broad shoulders sat his familiar, a frilled fire lizard named Stegler. The scaly beast turned to face Jensen, flared his ruff wide and hissed.

Jensen opened him mouth, but his mentor spoke first in a calm and patient tone.

“It’s been many a year since you’ve blown up the potions lab. I dare say that something…unforetold must have happened.” One knobby hand reached up to sooth the agitated frilled fire lizard even as he sighed softly. “As much and we both might wish it otherwise, I cannot help you retrieve young Emma, my apprentice. The giants to the north stir again and I will be needed to hold them back.”

Jensen frowned in frustration that his master couldn’t help him, but he also couldn’t keep from being just a tiny bit creeped out that the old mage knew what was happening even before Jensen explained. When Jensen did that to Jessa it was just because he could read her expressions so well. When the Battle Mage did it, it was because he could see the unseeable.

Then his mentor held out one hand and gestured. A bright flare of light caught Jensen’s eye and he turned to look just in time to see some small metallic object on one of the shelves disappear. He turned back to his mentor to see a bronze coin the span of three fingers appear out of thin air in an identical flare of light. His mentor looked at it resting on his palm for a long moment and then whispered at it. The coin obediently floated up into the air and then glided across the room towards Jensen. He gently plucked it out of the air and looked at it. On one side was a carving of starburst with a flower in the center, on the other was a crown with a sword behind it.

“Master?”

Jensen was confused, what was the coin for?

Before Jensen could voice his questions, the map inlaid on the floor began to shift as it zoomed in. The tower was always the very center of the map, but now instead of showing the whole world, it showed only a small part of the land. Jensen could clearly make out the tower and all the surrounding lands owned by the Battle Mage instead of it being just the tiniest of dots. Once the image stopped zooming, a town on the far side of Lake Meadra began to glow softly.

Jensen had seen the magic of this map in use before. While the tower itself was always centered on the map, the image the mosaic tiles formed could change as the image zoomed in or out. Sections that began to glow were always of interest. Lake Meadra was about three days travel by horse to the southwest of the tower. To get to the glowing town, it would take another half day of travel by boat…or another two days if one rode around the edge.

“Go to the city of Florena, my apprentice. Visit a tavern called The Lady of the Vine. Give that coin to a man named Clay. He will assist you.” 

Jensen frowned deeply. While help would be a wonderful thing, who the hell was Clay? “Uh…this Clay guy…is he a mercenary? ‘Cause no offence, but if he is then this coin probably won’t be enough to hire him.”

Battle Mage Coleman chuckled softly. It was a dry sound, nearly hollow.

“Yes…Clay is a mercenary.” The old man shrugged. “Once he was…more. However, mercenary or not, give him the coin. He will help you. He may ask for more money…he may not. It is hard to say, but keep in mind that war is an expensive endeavor.”

Jensen startled at that and blinked hard. “What! War? No! No…no war. Just, uh…rescuing my niece. I mean, yeah, the guy who has her and my sister’s husband…they’re gonna die. But I’m not looking for war.”

His mentor finally turned away from the window to face Jensen, his eyes a milky white as he looked at that which could not be seen. 

“Perhaps not, young one. However, I dare say, war is looking for you.”


	9. The Brass and the Bronze-Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of non-related short stories featuring the Losers. Some are cannon compliant, some are wildly AU. Some focus on one or more characters and some have the ensemble cast. Some might even end up crossovers. Some will be strictly gen, but many will probably feature Jensen and Cougar as a couple as they are my Losers OTP. 
> 
> Note: each story (or chapter) will have it's own heading and warnings. Please read them to prevent reading a story that might bother you. Also, this collection will have stories added to it randomly as they pop out of my brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FANDOM: The Losers/D&D Dragons  
> RATING: PG-13  
> WARNING: Pottymouth language, pouty Roque, Cougar behaving like a teenage girl, Clay’s interior decorating woes, and crack-tastic silliness.  
> DISCLAIMER: The Losers are from Diggle & Jock, DC/Vertigo, Dark Castle. The Dragons are taken from D&D. Gary Hall Jr is his own person and I don’t own him or any of his achievements. Also, the song: 'Do Wah Diddy Diddy' is owned by Manfred Mann.  
> SUMMARY: The Losers get assigned a full blooded dragon for a teammate. Some adjustments are needed and some secrets are revealed.

“We’re being given a dragon.”

Roque gaped at Clay for a brief moment, then jumped up out of his chair and waved his arms through the air in a negative motion.

“Oh, _hell_ no!”

Pooch stared wide-eyed, but whether it was at Clay’s statement or Roque’s reaction was anyone’s guess. Cougar just silently glared at Roque, a fierce scowl on his face.

“Roque…” Clay trailed off threateningly.

Roque sighed and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Frustration and irritation rolled off of him.

“Yeah…okay, fine.” Roque tipped his head back to glare at Clay. “When? And what kind?”

Clay nodded acceptance of Roque’s semi-apology.

“Three days.”

Pooch lifted a hand into the air, pointer finger extended. Clay arched an eyebrow in amusement at him.

“Yes, Pooch? You have a question?”

“A dragon?”

Clay nodded.

“Us?”

Clay smirked. “Yes, us.”

Pooch blinked in confusion.

“Why? I mean, why us? We don’t normally go on the kinds of missions that require a freaking _dragon!_ ”

Clay sighed before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Apparently he’s a shapeshifter, so he’ll probably spend most of his time in human form.” Clay shrugged. “We’re getting him for his tech skills.”

Pooch nodded his head slowly, obviously still unsure.

“Oh…”

His confusion was understandable. There weren’t a lot of dragons in the US Military and those that were tended towards other areas besides Black Ops. Their skills usually fell in the areas of magic, aerial combat, and being freaking scary as all hell; not tech. As such, dragons were usually assigned to guard and protect vulnerable locations and forward bases. The Army liked to station dragons near borders of countries that also had dragons.

A dragon on a small Black Ops tactical unit? That was nearly unheard of.

Roque glared at Clay for a long moment before growling, “Don’t think I missed the fact that you didn’t answer my question about what type of dragon. At least tell me it isn’t a fucking Gold.” Roque snorted and shook his head. “I will _not_ be talked down to by a puffed up, self-impressed, oversized lizard.”

Clay rolled his eyes at Roque’s dramatics.

“He’s not a Gold, don’t worry. He’s a Brass dragon.”

"Yeah, uh…” Pooch shrugged. “I don’t really know much about dragons beyond what you can and can’t do while sharing airspace with one that’s friendly or how to outfly an enemy dragon. What’s up with the Brass dragons besides the fin-like wing design?”

Roque’s expression flickered from mildly horrified to hopelessly resigned.

“Friendly,” Roque grimaced, “chatterboxes.”

Clay nodded in agreement.

“Pretty much. At least, I’ve never met a Brass that knew how to shut the hell up.”

Roque spun and kicked the wall next to him.

"Fuck! I hate goddamn dragons!”

Cougar’s eyes narrowed as his pupils contracted into reptilian slits. Then he stood up and stomped over to Roque to show his teeth in an angry hiss.

“Vete a la mierda gilipollas! Tal vez los dragones deben odiarte espalda, eh?”

Then Cougar shoved his way past Roque and stomped out of the room. Roque, for his part, looked confused by Cougar’s reaction.

“What the hell was that about?”

Clay shot him a look that said to stop being a stupid asshole.

“You _did_ know Cougar’s part dragon, didn’t you?”

Roque blinked, caught off guard by that.

"I didn’t know,” said Pooch. “Huh. Dragon-Kin…that explains a lot, actually.” 

__Roque grimaced and slumped down a bit._ _

__“I did know…but I forgot.”_ _

__Clay gave a sharp nod. “One of his grandparents is a Bronze. I’m not sure which one, though.”_ _

__Pooch gave Roque a pointed look. “You need to fix that shit fast or Cougar’s gonna be a passive aggressive asshole for weeks.”_ _

__Roque snorted._ _

__“No shit.”_ _

__***_ _

__Everyone knew about dragons even if most people had never met one. Dragons were kind of rare. This was because dragons were native to a different plane of existence…a purely separate level of reality; one of magic and sorcery, not science. Of all the people and creatures on both planes, only dragons were strong enough physically and magically to cross over the boundary between worlds._ _

__So, yeah, dragons were rare. They wouldn’t stop visiting, however, because dragons were fascinated by humans. In fact, they adored humans so much that thousands of years ago some magical genius of a dragon had developed a magic spell that allowed them to transform their huge reptilian bodies into human ones. Or…at least humanesque._ _

__That, of course, led to crossbreeds: Dragon-Kin._ _

__The human children of dragons had a natural magical talent allowing them to shift into miniature versions of a dragon. And by miniature, that meant anywhere from pony sized to elephant sized. In fact, the only way to tell a first generation dragon-kin to a real dragon was the size._ _

__Cougar was a dragon-kin, but he was a grandchild, not a child. Due to that, he couldn’t make a full transformation to dragon. He could do partial transformations; such as his eyes and skin, but he did have some other draconian traits._ _

__He was quiet and subtle about it though, so Roque had legitimately forgotten. He hadn’t been trying to include the sniper or his family in his blanket statement declaring his hatred for dragons._ _

__That didn’t stop Cougar from letting his ire being known. Like when he’d returned to the meeting, he’d brought a beer for himself, Clay, and Pooch before pointedly ignoring Roque. Also, it was a bit uncomfortable to be glared at by a sniper. It made the little hairs on the back of Roque’s neck stand up on end and the space between his shoulder blades itch._ _

__Not wanting bad feelings to linger among the team, Roque walked up to Cougar and cleared his throat, “Hey…Cougs.”_ _

__Cougar spun to face him and began to transform. His dark hair took on bronzy-green undertones even as his eyes shifted from human to a metallic and distinctly reptilian slit pupil. Small scales formed along his arms and in ridges from his temple over his eyes and along his jaw. Then Cougar bared his suddenly longer and sharper teeth and hissed at Roque. It was an angry and aggressive sound. Then he pivoted and stomped away._ _

__“Well…” Roque blinked, “Okay then. I’ll just wait till you aren’t acting like a little psycho bitch.”_ _

__***_ _

__Doing just that, Roque gave Cougar his space until Pooch came in with Chinese takeout and called everyone in for dinner. Sitting around the table was…tense. How a man that almost never talked could give someone the silent treatment, Roque wasn’t sure, but Cougar was a master at it. The silence that excluded Roque seemed to include Clay and Pooch._ _

__Clay gave Roque a pointed look that said ‘Fix this!’ Roque sighed and scooped up some noodles onto his plate. Clay was right. He needed to try, at least._ _

__“Hey Cougar. Pass the duck sauce.”_ _

__Cougar blatantly ignored him, pretending he hadn’t spoken. Clay sighed even as Pooch’s eyes flickered from Roque to Cougar and then back to Roque._ _

__“Cougar, man. Pass the duck sauce,” Roque tried again._ _

__Again, Cougar gave no indication that he’d heard Roque at all. He simply spooned out some teriyaki chicken onto his plate. Pooch paused a moment to shoot Roque a pitying look before turning to Cougar._ _

__“Hey Cougs?” Pooch said, “Pass the duck sauce, man.”_ _

__Smirking silently, Cougar put his fork down long enough to pick up the duck sauce and hand it over to Pooch. Pooch in turn, handed it over to Roque._ _

__Narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Roque snarled before pointing at Cougar and turning to snap at Clay._ _

__“See! That right there! That was rude, dammit!” He slammed his hand onto the tabletop with a loud bang. “I’m fucking _trying ___here and he’s being a little bitch!”_ _

___Cougar bared his teeth at Roque, equal parts anger and amusement in his eyes._ _ _

___Clay sighed deeply, the sound of it tired and annoyed before he leveled a glare at all of them._ _ _

___“All right. Listen up ‘cause I’m only going to say this once and the next time I have to intervene in a team squabble, I’ll just bash your heads together like cymbals so I can enjoy the noise it makes.”_ _ _

___Pooch snorted before nodding in approval, “Nice imagery.”_ _ _

___Clay glared at him, so Pooch lifted a hand and mimed zipping his lips shut. Clay shifted his glare to Cougar._ _ _

___“Cougs, you need to know that Roque misspoke earlier. He didn’t mean to imply he hated all dragons. What he dislikes are _Gold ___dragons and that’s for a fairly good reason. I can assure you that he actually likes _you ___and has nothing against your family.”_ _ _

_____Cougar frowned, looked down at his plate and then snuck a little glance over at Roque before looking down again. He nodded slightly._ _ _ _ _

_____Clay shifted his glare to Roque, “And you need to apologize for implying that you hated Cougar…even if it was a misunderstanding.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque gave Clay an incredulous look. Apologize? Him? Clay’s glare sharpened and with a defeated sigh, Rogue slumped and nodded before turning to look at Cougar._ _ _ _ _

_____“Clay’s right, Cougs. I don’t hate you. I never did.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Cougar looked up at him, his face arranged into that freakily blank poker-face he had._ _ _ _ _

_____Roque paused, grimaced and then slumped further._ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m…I’m sorry.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Cougar stared at him for a moment as if to judge his sincerity before his expression softened slightly and he nodded._ _ _ _ _

_____“De nada.”_ _ _ _ _

_____And just like that, the tension in the room evaporated as Cougar forked up another mouthful of food. They ate in silence for a moment and then Pooch couldn’t take it anymore and grinned up at Roque._ _ _ _ _

_____“So…just what did that Gold do to piss you off so much, anyway?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque glared at him for a second before scowling down at his plate, but he didn’t answer. Cougar didn’t say anything, but he tipped his head up to listen to the story. Roque, however, stayed silent. Clay, the grinning bastard that he was, put down his fork and leaned back in his chair chuckling at the memory._ _ _ _ _

_____“It was long ago…” Clay began._ _ _ _ _

_____Roque rolled his eyes, but didn’t interrupt. He hated this story, but after all the tension and fucked-upness recently, Cougar at least, deserved to know it._ _ _ _ _

_____“…at a forward base in the heart of the sandbox that a newly minted Lieutenant Roque got caught playing pranks on his own men by a rather….er, serious minded Gold named Draphalair-El-Tamporiene. Drapha for short.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Lucky home of warm winds,” Cougar injected._ _ _ _ _

_____“Huh?” Pooch said. Roque and Clay looked just as confused._ _ _ _ _

_____“The Gold’s name translates from Draconian into English as ‘lucky home of warm winds’ and his nickname would translate as ‘good luck’.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque snorted, “He wasn’t good luck for me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay’s expression turned vastly amused. “No…he wasn’t.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch looked fascinated. “Why? What happened?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay snorted and grinned deep enough for his dimples to come out._ _ _ _ _

_____“Drapha gave Roque one hell of a dressing down for his pranks. Only, he didn’t pull Roque aside to do it, he lectured him loudly in front of both his underlings and his superiors. It was an epic and total mom speech, which made it even better.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque scowled, “Says you!”_ _ _ _ _

_____Then he turned to Pooch in a bid for sympathy. “Imagine getting lectured by your grandmother in front of an entire forward base. Drapha was all ‘I’m so disappointed in you because you can do better’ while using this tone of voice that said I was a stupid moron that can’t be trusted to clean up my room. It was the most humiliating thing I’ve ever suffered through. Worse, any amount of fear and respect I’d managed to instill in those men was totally blown by that scene.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay’s smile melted at that last bit and he conceded with a nod._ _ _ _ _

_____“Well, that’s true.” He glanced over at Pooch and Cougar. “Roque had to transfer units because anytime he tried to discipline the men they threatened to tattle to Drapha on him.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Mi madre,” Cougar began in a consolatory tone of voice, “publicly lectured my sister and I whenever we didn’t get first place in any swimming competitions when we were in highschool. She despaired having to admit such failure to our grandfather.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch grinned, amused. “Really?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Cougar nodded._ _ _ _ _

_____“I think even a bronze-kin should be forgiven about losing to Gary Hall Jr,” Cougar snorted and rolled his eyes, “but tell that to mi madre…”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque blinked. “Who?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Hey,” Clay frowned in thought, “wasn’t Hall an Olympic swimmer?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Cougar nodded. “Si. He took home two bronze, three silver, and five gold medals.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch whistled. “Damn…man’s one hell of a swimmer.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Si. Always was…even back in highschool.” Cougar shrugged, “Didn’t stop me from being lectured like a naughty hatchling when he won, though.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Roque took Cougar’s story for what it was; understanding and forgiveness. He turned a vindicated look upon Clay._ _ _ _ _

_____“See! I’m not strange for being traumatized from getting lectured at by a dragon!”_ _ _ _ _

_____***_ _ _ _ _

_____The next day was spent getting ready for their new teammate._ _ _ _ _

_____The team had a small house on base that they stayed in whenever they couldn’t get liberty. This didn’t stop them from having homes off base. Roque had a small house in Fayetteville that he inherited from his grandmother and Clay had an even smaller apartment in Bonnie Doone. Cougar had a house in Spout Springs right off of the Buffalo Lakes and spent most of his down time freaking out the fish there. Pooch also had a house, but it was the farthest away from the base. Springfield was a suburb of Raleigh, but Pooch made the drive whenever he had at least two days of liberty. No one was sure if the new guy had off base housing, but that wasn’t their concern._ _ _ _ _

_____What was their concern was making sure the new guy had a place to stay when they were on base. Which was fine…except that there were only four bedrooms. It was quickly decided that the new guy should share with Cougar because as a dragon-kin Cougar would best be able to understand any dragonish traits and impulses. And by decided, that meant that Roque suggested it after Pooch mentioned the lack of a fifth bedroom and Clay agreed that was a good idea. Cougar just rolled his eyes and shrugged._ _ _ _ _

_____“Then we should have a bigger bedroom.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay frowned at that. Currently, he had the biggest bedroom and he liked it._ _ _ _ _

_____“What? Why?” he gestured vaguely towards the stairs. “You have a nice sized bedroom.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Which was true, but…_ _ _ _ _

_____“Dragons tend to hoard.”_ _ _ _ _

_____That was also true. Even Cougar, who was merely a second generation dragon-kin hoarded stuff. Mostly guns, scopes, books, scarves and hats with the occasional ceramic figurine. Okay, yeah, with the exception of the books and figurines, those things could be seen as sniper gear, but Cougar took it to the extreme. He only kept his favorites on base, but his house in Spout Springs resembled a labyrinth of bookshelves, display cases, gun safes, and hat racks._ _ _ _ _

_____It was a good bet that a full blood dragon would be even worse. Especially if he didn’t have off base housing to store all his stuff. Clay waffled for a bit, obviously trying to think of a way out of it, but eventually he caved._ _ _ _ _

_____“Yeah, okay fine…” then he pointed at Pooch and Roque, “but you two fuckers are helping us move shit around.”_ _ _ _ _

_____The whole thing took longer and was far more complicated than it should have been. Mostly because Pooch’s inner decorator came out and he kept insisting on rearranging the furniture a dozen times while Roque encouraged him by pointing out various bits of Feng Shui wisdom. Clay didn’t want to know where the fuck Roque picked up Feng Shui. Just…no._ _ _ _ _

_____It didn’t help that Cougar’s gun safes were incredibly heavy or that he got insanely angry and possessive whenever one of them tried to actually help move his hats. Only Cougar was allowed to touch the hat racks and move the hats…why, Clay didn’t know. In fact, if anyone tried to explain it, he’d probably punch them in the nose…much like Roque and his fucking Feng Shui._ _ _ _ _

_____That somehow didn’t stop Pooch from being the most annoying one, however._ _ _ _ _

_____“No, dammit! We are _not_ painting the room a nice warm sunshine fucking yellow!”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch had the nerve to pout at him. The bastard._ _ _ _ _

_____***_ _ _ _ _

_____Their first impression of their new teammate was loud obnoxious music. _Do Wah Diddy Diddy_ by Manfred Mann was pouring out of the little Chevy’s speakers loud enough to be heard inside the Loser’s house. It was a better summons than honking the horn, but not by much. It didn’t help that Pooch was already grinning, Roque was already scowling, and Cougar was slinking through the shadows as curious as the cat he was named for._ _ _ _ _

_____If Clay hadn’t known he was a dragon beforehand, he would have never guessed. The new guy turned out to be a big, buff, blonde *kid* that looked like a cross between a surfer and a frat brother. He unfolded himself from the car singing at the top of his lungs._ _ _ _ _

_____“She looked good! She looked fine! And I nearly lost my mind!”_ _ _ _ _

_____He did a little dance step while walking around the back of his car to the little trailer he was hauling. The he spun and pointed at Pooch._ _ _ _ _

_____“Before I knew it she was walkin’ next to me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch, grinning like a fool, sang, “Do wah diddy diddy dum ditty do!”_ _ _ _ _

_____The dragon sorted through his keys until he found the one he was looking for and jiggled it in front of Pooch while singing the next line, “Holdin’ my hand just as natural as can be.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Then he stuck the key in the padlock to unlock the trailer even as Pooch sang out, “Do wah diddy diddy dum ditty do!”_ _ _ _ _

_____Removing the lock, the dragon grabbed hold of the door and flung it up revealing the inside. Pooch peered in and his eyes went wide. He whistled in awe at the massive amounts of stuff the dragon had managed to pack into the trailer. Then the blonde beamed a wide toothy smile at Pooch._ _ _ _ _

_____“I know, right?” He stuck out a hand for Pooch to shake. “Oh, hey. I’m Jaqobah Div Tendisheur, but you can call me Jensen.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Jensen?” Roque arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound…dragonish.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen looked over and blinked before nodding in agreement._ _ _ _ _

_____“You’re right. Jensen is my half-sister’s family name. She told me to use it after spending a long weekend listening to people trying…and failing, to pronounce mine correctly.”_ _ _ _ _

_____A confused expression flickered over his face._ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t know why.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay shared a look with Roque. It was fairly obvious to both men why no one could pronounce Jaqobah Div Tendisheur. It was difficult for humans to speak draconian words because their vocal cords, mouth and tongues were the wrong shape. Even those that *could* speak it had a horrible accent. That’s why most dragons ended up using nicknames._ _ _ _ _

_____“Uh huh.” Clay cleared his throat. “I’m Colonel Clay.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen beamed a smile and tossed off a sloppy salute. “Nice to meet you Colonel.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay nodded and pointed to his team one by one._ _ _ _ _

_____“This is Captain Roque. You already met Pooch, and that’s Cougar.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen nodded at Roque, clapped a hand on Pooch’s shoulder and tossed a grin at Cougar. Then he did a double take, staring wide-eyed at Cougar._ _ _ _ _

_____“You okay, Jensen?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen nodded absently, still staring._ _ _ _ _

_____“I didn’t know there was another dragon on the team.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay frowned, concerned. “Is this a problem?”_ _ _ _ _

_____No one warned him that this might be a problem and really, he didn’t want his sniper to get stomped on by an angry and territorial dragon. Then Jensen breathed in deep, his nostrils flaring wide._ _ _ _ _

_____“Bronze kin?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Cougar nodded and smirked._ _ _ _ _

_____“Corporal!” Clay snapped._ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen broke off staring at Cougar to blink at Clay. “Er…yes?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Is. This. A. Problem?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen blinked again, obviously confused. He leaned towards Pooch, elbowed his ribs and hissed under his breath, “What the frilly heck is the colonel talking about? I totally missed it looking at the pretty bronze kin.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Pooch snorted and Cougar’s smirk turned smug. Clay and Roque shared another look, this one silently speaking of future headaches to come._ _ _ _ _

_____“Clay wants to know if it’ll be a problem for you to bunk in the same room with Cougs, here.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Jensen shot him a beaming smile._ _ _ _ _

_____“No. No problem at all.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Clay forced himself not to snort or roll his eyes. He was quite pleased that he managed it._ _ _ _ _

_____ _ _ _

_____* Google Translate says..._ _ _ _ _

_____Vete a la mierda gilipollas! Tal vez los dragones deben odiarte espalda, eh?  
-Fuck you asshole shit! Maybe dragons should hate you back, eh?_ _ _ _ _


End file.
